


Aadhya: Goddess of Universes

by ChaotiCookie



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Other, Romance, Science Fiction, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaotiCookie/pseuds/ChaotiCookie
Summary: Her 620 year battle finally coming to an end against the gods, Aadyha faces a difficult path which could lead to her death. Her dearest and closest friend, Rocket, attempts to advice her on the matter--in his own cynical way. And, of course, his answer is not what she wants to hear. Returning to the past, Aadhya discovers a kind of love she's always had. A love beyond romance or brotherhood. A love beyond friendship or camaraderie. Something she never knew existed.





	1. Bitch, I Fly.

_The stars are my fuel and the comets my stars. The nebulae are my clouds and the onyx blanket of space my sky. I can breathe without oxygen. Sleep without dreams. And live for a millennia—thank the heavens it hasn’t gotten to that point… yet. I have gone through countless wars and led many more. I have freed slaves, cities, countries, planets, and universes. To some universes, I am a queen. Others a mutant. Then some a wizard, witch, or mage. There are even some who revere me as a god or God. In truth, I do not know what I am. What I do know is the purpose I was given and my reason for fulfilling that purpose. You see, where I am from—a place so long ago the memory of it feels like a dream—my world is governed my humans without super powers or magic. Heroes were those who stood up against opposition. Who fought for their beliefs with words and actions. Scientists and engineers. Teachers. Firefighters. Artists. Or just that one soul who changed another’s life._

_But our god did give us an ability. They gave us the power to create._

_From the minds of simple humans, universes were formed and in it beings of every caliber and design existed. Otherworldly creatures were birthed, magic was no longer fantasy, and new gods were erected. Our god, however, contained our creations into words that could only be read and spoken; never in the capacity to be brought to life like they did to us. During my time, something beyond our understanding occurred which led me where I am today. The heavens shattered and everything they sought to contain poured out. We were no longer their worshippers. We became their equals._

_In the mix of the chaos and the collision of many universes into ours, many were taken from their homes and flung into random pockets of time and space. I was taken to the heavens where our gods reigned. Here, I was gifted two abilities and a task. The first ability was many tongues—I can speak all dialects and language from every universe. The second was absorption—I acquire a unique trait from each universe if there is any to give. The task became my purpose: to gather every universe into one army and defeat the god who shattered the heavens. By defeating this god, I save Earth and my family, but also return our gods to their throne._

_620 years have passed since I was taken from Earth, and the battle finally nears its close. I have amassed an army in the combined forces of many universes and galaxies to battle against the villainous god who wishes to destroy all universes. And in this final phase, there are decisions to be made, questions that need to be answered. One booming question from every universe regards the absence of a king in my life. I’ve tried to make a stand like Queen Elizabeth I herself, and pry my advisors’ selections away from me, but even our god threatens me with it. The people’s reason is for an image; I’m not taking power unto myself but distributing it to others. The gods’ reason is far beyond petty like the universes’, for they fixed a third gift (and curse) upon me without my knowing: the power to destroy the villainous god will be my death, unless I share it with one other through vows, or I would like to call, bondage. Once I fulfill my purpose, they wish to kill or deprive me of my powers and not get in the way of their scheme for sovereignty._

_Above all, and probably the most important answer to this solution, is for someone to accept this bondage; they would most certainly have to love me enough to go through with it. But in all my 620 years I refused love, therefore no one has loved me. So, I will die for my people. The universes. My family._

_Who knew that was the last time I would ever see them again?_

 

* * *

 

**Knowhere: Head of a Dead Celestial and Space Station - Present  
**

Athena takes a sip of the blue liquid from a dirty glass and feels it explode in her mouth and burn her throat as she swallows. The bar is grimy as if no one bothered to clean it for centuries. You’d think advanced space aliens would at least bother with a droid who could clean up the place. The atmosphere is smoky which could either be due to the smell, the steaming alcohol, or the cigarette machine smoking in the back corner of the slime hole. And let’s not get to the degenerate aliens who fill the place; each slinging around a gun in their holsters with much bravado, practically daring anyone to start a fight. And every one of them screaming a conversation rather than just talking.

But Athena is not bothered at all by the place. She has been in much worse scenarios with much less friendly customers. At least they mind their own business. She’s had to deal with lechers, rapists, and human traffickers. Still, it wouldn’t be her top choice. This was her friend’s choice, and it’s his favorite place in galaxy to come to along with his large, wooden friend who is drinking a healthier beverage than the other two: juice.

The woman with an appearance of a 30-year-old, stares at her muddy reflection in the blue drink. Her eyes are lifeless and a firm line is set on her lips. On her right her friend’s long nail taps his glass in thought. Rocket, a raccoon who is not a raccoon and hates to be called one, has remained silent since they sat in the bar.

“I am Groot.” Groot, the large wooden creature made of bark, vines, and occasional twigs breaks the silence amidst the noise to Athena’s left.

Athena furrows her brows. “I’m not sure. I just want it all to end. I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

Saying those words lifted some of the pressure resting on her shoulder, but nothing can remove the weight—the weight of several universes riding on them.

“I am Groot.” Although he speaks the same sentence, the tone is different. Softer.

“I know I’m not alone. I have no doubt in my mind we’ll win. We’ve prepared years for this. But…”

At this Rocket tilts his head slightly for his ears to pick up just a whisper from her.

She swallows. It has only been a few years since her advisors have heard the news, and to this hour they are trying to find a solution. One even offered her a love potion.

Athena holds her head on her fingertips. She befriended many in her time flying through the universes (or teleporting), but very few close ones. In fact, she can only count five. Four are with her advisors in a hidden pocket of a universe where her base is located, and the other is her silent, furry companion. And the silence is what’s bothering her. Rocket is never silent. She can see Groot eyeing him every so often, also finding it strange.

And yet, the closest to her in the small circle, Rocket is the only who doesn’t know.

He clears his throat, attracting Groot’s and Athena’s eyes with wide wonder.

“How many years has it been… for you?”

His voice isn’t high-pitched like one would imagine. It is unique and normal like a man’s, but to Athena it sounds like home.

“Since we last saw each other? Almost seventy… I think. That’s around two years for you, though, right?” She takes another sip of her drink to burn away her guilt, and thinking over whether she spoke too nonchalantly.

Rocket was going to take another swig from his drink, but it never hit his snout when “seventy” was mentioned. He sets it down with force.

“Fuck. Seventy,” he chuckles dryly.

“I’m sorry I haven’t written to you as much as I would have liked. Time feels a lot shorter these days.”

Rocket pushes his glass away. “That’s not the point!”

Groot tilts his. Beneath Athena’s arms, the table vibrates softly from Groot’s low questioning rumble from his chest. She too observes Rocket with a quizzical stare.

“I’ve been hearing this and that from Quill about your queenly ventures. And from everything I’ve heard, you seem to be doing fine!”

Athena frowns at this. “I’m sorry if I don’t recount every detail of my battles. In fact, a lot of them I’m not even part of, but by name only.”

Rocket claws his face in frustration. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. Every time you come back here the space between gets longer.”

“You know it’s because of the final war,” Athena quickly counters.

He bares his sharp teeth and fangs. “Every time you come back, you’re less and less like yourself. When you approached our ship just hours ago, I didn’t recognize you. You looked like you came from a funeral. What the hell has been going on over there that’s making you be this reserved little veronicellidae?”

“How do you even know that word? It’s an Earth term,” Athena mumbles in her cup

“You never complained about how tired you were. From every asshole to flarkin’ demons you were always prepared to face them head on knowing the consequences! You thought it was fun (which was a little unnerving, but, hey, it suited you). You were always smiling and laughing at the stupidest shit. Even my jokes, which aren’t even that funny and just me being a prick. Something died in you. And as your… friend and all, I’ve got to be completely honest, you look like crap too.”

Athena pushed her drink as well, the dirty glass disgusting her more than she realized. She also picked up on how Rocket stumbled over the word “friend”. “What were you expecting? You know how my life is. What I’m shouldering. How many people are counting on me. S.H.I.E.L.D has been worse than Thanos. Constantly asking me for updates and plans and schematics and inventory and ships and soldiers. The whole thing is becoming a nightmare.”

“That’s what I’m here for ain’t it? Someone for you to talk to? You’ve been pushing me away, Aadhya.”

Athena runs her hands up over brown face and to her long black hair. Relishing him saying the name her mother and father gave her—faces which have faded slowly from her memory—she absolves to a decision.

_I need to tell him._

She waits for something to ignite the words out of her mouth. Anything. Her lips won’t part, but her tongue is curled behind her teeth, preparing for the first word.

“There’s-,“ it came out as a whisper. She tries again. “There’s something I haven’t told you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

“I’m listening,” Rocket drawls with a slight decline in his ears and his teeth bared at her again.

“When I do pulverize this crackpot god, my powers will leave me.”

Rocket exhales some air he had been holding in as a chuckle. “That’s it? You nearly gave me a heart attack. Fuck. Who cares if you lose ‘em. That’s good ain’t it?”

“I’ll die.”

Every ounce of laughter leaves Rocket’s small form, and deflates into a thin creature without life. His mouth opens and closes in a meager attempt to for words, but they falls short.

Groot finds it much easier to say what he wants in three words. “I am Groot?” He leans further into the conversation, eyes wide with worry and searching within Athena’s. Athena places a hand on his thick, wooden harm. A pleasant chill shoots up her hand from the life flowing through his body.

“No. It’s not the only solution.”

“Well, what’s the other one?!,” Rocket jumps on his seat and stands face to face with Athena. “You’re obviously gonna go for the other one.”

 “My other option,” she snarls, “requires vows.”

“What? Like marriage?” His mouth curled to the side in strange disgust.

“Worse. More like cursed servitude. For example, if they so much as think about betraying me they die. Then I’d have to go back to option one. But these “vows” include part of my powers transferring to whoever—taking on the weight of several universes. It’s something I’d never wish upon anyone.”

“That’s not your decision, is it? Has anyone asked you for the vows?”

“No.”

“You’re kiddin’ me! You’ve travelled across a plethora of universes and not one guy will take these vows with you? I can literally see a load of ass-wipes groveling at your feet and shining your shoes with their tears.”

“First off, it would have to be someone I can trust implicitly. Second, I don’t let them ask me. I silence them with a spell.”

“That’s tactful. You know you’re being a flarkin’ idiot, right? You’ve got a hidden base full of people you trust. Just pick one. Like that thing the more annoying Spider-Man kid was telling me about. Tiller?”

“Rocket,” she captures his gaze and freezes him under her harsh and impenetrable stare. “I made my choice.”

“You’ve sacrificed enough for these universes. They don’t deserve your life too.”

“This burden is mine alone. It’s taken me 600 years to have the strength to carry it, can you imagine how it would feel to take on half instantaneously?”

“And your family? The whole reason you’re even doing this and not letting us all disappear into nothing. You’ll never see them again.”

“My life for theirs. That’s all there is to it. And it’s not just for my family. I’ve met a lot of people I care about too.”

“Then just make the krutacking vows and get on with it! You can divorce afterwards.”

“The vows are set for life. Some sick humor the gods played me with. Who the hell wants to spend the rests of their lives with me and not have the freedom to ever love?” The longer Athena thinks on it the stronger her rage boils in the pit of her stomach and flushes her face. The gods were determined to set her demise when her task was over, so she could never rise again. It’s their way of showing who is the true superior. And forget about the “chosen” individual who would go through with the vows, Athena would also never be able to love—not that she had any hopes for it. She is about as a strong as a god and that alone is intimidating.

Rocket fell silent again, and this annoyed Athena a great deal. Rocket’s silences are rare and never good.

“What is it?” Athena’s firm tone caused Rocket’s ears to twitch back for a moment.

“I would-“

Athena does a hand gesture in the air of an upward crescent finished with a downward slash.

The rest of Rocket’s words are silent. He moves his mouth, but no sound escapes. He furrows his brows and whiskers twitch with indignation. Groot stares at him in awe. “I am Groot?”

Rocket points, grabs at the air, and stomps his shoeless foot on the greasy seat. His throat works tirelessly on shouts, but no amount of effort could bring his voice back.

Athena throws a few coins on the bar table and leaves her seat. “Thanks for the chat. I think it’s time I head back.”

“I am Groot.”

Athena embraces Groot. “Bye, Groot. And take care of him for me will ya?,” she says on a slightly happier note. She turns to Rocket and glowers at him. “I’ll see you when I call all arms to action.”

Rocket holds out his arms to her in a gesture of what-just-happened with his jaw hanging slack as she leaves. When she reaches the bar’s exit, she makes another wave of her hand.

Rocket gasps, and the moment he realizes his voice returned he screams for the whole bar to hear, “Go ahead and kill yourself! Not like I give a shit!”

Athena ignores him and disappears into the crowd and bright lights of Knowhere.

“I am Groot.”

“I’ve got news for you, pal. I _am_ an awful being.”

 Groot rubs his bark hand over his bark bicep in solemn silence. “I am Groot.”

Rocket’s ears and nose twitch in pain, and his body winces from his best friend’s three simple words. Words that carry far more impact than anyone could imagine.

“What if those were my last words to her?” he asks himself, repeating Groot’s intentional meaning.

 

* * *

 

 **Universe 616 – Five Years Earlier**  
(Aadhya - 187 Years Earlier)

Through the suffocating vortex of colorful nebulae and stars spiraling so fast it was a blur of bright lights and smeared paint, Aadhya did not scream in fear nor grunt in discomfort from the tight sensation around her body like being sucked through a water bag. She had been through this experience more times she could remember and after each experience was propelled into a new universe of the gods’ choosing. To this day she cannot piece together whether the locations were random or chosen by design. All she knew was her need to prepare for another adventure into the unknown and blend in with her surroundings. Easy right? She hoped this time around it would be.

Aadhya was blasted into the middle of empty space. Her body rolled slowly in place from the lack of gravity and her head spinning from the sudden drop.

She twisted her body around and took in her surroundings. Black emptiness glittering with small white lights.

“What the fuck?” Aadhya was always dropped into some sort of civilization to get her bearings and feel of wherever the hell she pushed into. On another note, she tilted her head awkwardly and furrowed her brows. She breathed in. Then out.

“How am I breathing?”

She observed her hands and spotted no means of crystallization on her brown skin; something she was familiar with since this was not her first experience with space. But there were species and ships and planets and jet packs. She’s in the middle of nowhere.

She tried swimming to move her herself, but it did nothing. Another attempt was closing her eyes and feeling the energy and life around her to help her move. It worked for some time, but the mental concentration was exhausting. She’s used to using it in spurts during battle, not over long lengths of time. She had to stop or else she would be too tired to move again, which would make a poor predicament.

“Alright. A spell? I don’t think they’ve ever been attempted in space.” Her hand orchestrated a short and fluid hand movement and recited the charm in her mind. Nothing.

“I guess it only works with gravity,” she held her round chin. “Fire?” She whispered protective enchantments on her hands, then performed complicated hand signs, drawing the living force around her to perform the spell. She threw her hands behind her and shot fire from them. The force threw her forward.

For over an hour she maintained the spell without a single change in scenery, until her hands began to burn. She stopped to observe their red color. “Gonna have to work on my enchantments.” She whispered another spell to return her hands to their normal hue.

For several minutes, she pondered. And pondered some more, until something finally hit her.

“If I can breathe in space, what else can I do?”

Riled with excitement, she sat cross legged, closed her eyes, and put her fists together over her navel, like how her master taught her.  With dutiful concentration, her breathing slowed, her furrowed brows eased upward, and the lines on her face smoothed away.

Aadhya swept away into another realm within her consciousness; her mind reeling with question on how to get out of space and what new abilities lie in wait. Soon the voices ceased and was left with emptiness. Far away, in the far reaches of her mind, a bright, white light broke the darkness. Her thoughts focused on the light’s single location. She could not tell whether the light was closing in on her or if she was the one moving. But soon the light turned into a ball the size of her palm. In it was the cosmos and their infinite arrays of purple, green, and yellow. It swirled within, manifesting into countless shapes, swirling within its confines. Aadhya pictured her hand extending its pointer finger to the ball. She touched it. There was half a second of silence, then an explosion of color burst through her consciousness.

Flying out of her mind, Aadhya’s eyes flung open and she gasped as if she had been holding her breath for minutes.

Gasping for whatever she’s breathing in (certainly not oxygen), she observed her body, but nothing seemed to have changed physically.

“Bizarre.”

She tapped her cheek for a few moments, then concluded to a random thought. Aadhya extended her body to its full length, then with one breast stroke and a spurt of will she flew at incredible speed across the stars with her new-found power.

“I can fly, bitch!” She laughed and laughed until her voice went hoarse.

A new adventure awaits her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll take on any questions, as I'm sure there are some. It's going to be a weird ride, but I feel the Marvel universe is the perfect place to put this long term idea to the test: what if everything we created can be real?


	2. The Ass End of Nowhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things. Plot lines will not be taken from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I added it as a tag mainly for character backstories and other little things, I guess; Drax as an example. I prefer his backstory in the films over the comics. If you think otherwise, by all means talk to me about it. I'm all ears. That said, down the line there will be a whole lot of unfamiliar things to those who only watch the films, such as Thor is a woman, Peter Parker runs his own business, and Gamora and Peter were never a thing. Why did I choose this? The comics contain concepts I need for my story, like multiuniverses, cosmic beings, and entities (Eternity, Queen of Nevers, etc...). But now with Doctor Strange in the picture, who knows if the MCU will go that route as well?

**Universe 616 – Five Years Earlier  
** (Aadhya – 187 Years Earlier)

In the depths of unknown space where no race has ventured into or know of its existence, lies a structure far advanced and older than anything in the universe. It is simple at first glance, a pyramid with its point facing downward and its base a platform with designs etched into the borders of lost languages. But as the last remaining remnant before the Big Bang, it can perform feats beyond the norms of what we call architecture. It can transform into anything of its master’s choosing and provide whatever its master needs. For many cycles, its usual purpose was to serve a temporary resting place for its master whenever he wished to drink in the stars and cosmos without the presence of primitives who currently rule the universe. Its master also spent time searching the pyramid’s secrets, as it holds many artifacts and texts from an extinct universe. Many scholars and tyrants would kill to get their hands on such relics to discover truths and powers long forgotten. Its master, however, is a selfish man and doesn’t care about the benefits of the universe. Only how it could benefit him.

This cycle is a special cycle, though, for it would be the first since the Big Bang that the pyramid would serve something greater than a lounging area for an ancient being. This time, it would serve many masters.

From the dark cloak of space a ship in the shape of a human spear-head glided through the stars. It stopped above the pyramid and opened a circle wide enough for a single human in its belly. Blue rays descended from its hatch, along with Collector, to the pyramid’s center. Once Collector’s boots touched the base, the light from his ship faded and the pyramid sprung to life to greet its master. It shifted and shaped a translucent canopy above the whole base, furniture of exotic designs and food are prepped into the space, and statues of extinct species decorated it. Tapestries and artwork spruced the area, and the final piece of the setting was a table with a glass of red wine.

The Collector took his wine and observed the base garnered to his exquisite tastes. His form-fitting red coat swung behind his legs as he took it in. His white gloved hand absently stroked his white, goatee patch beneath his lips.

“Remove the statues and artwork.” As the statues and artwork sunk into the pyramid, he tapped his lips with another thought. “And the furniture.” The pyramid did as it is told.

The Collector sighed. “Get rid of everything. Can’t have Grandmaster see these things.”

Everything disappeared into a bottomless chasm within the pyramid, leaving the place bare except for the runes permanently etched into its body. A golden hand reached for the wine in its master’s hand, but he brought the glass into his chest in a protective gesture. “Not the wine.”

The pyramid slinked back into the base.

Not a moment later another male flew into the pyramid’s vicinity. The Grandmaster has blown back white hair which seems brighter against his blue skin, and the soft pink orbs in his eyes are barely visible as if there were no iris’. He arrived adorned with his usual yellow and black outfit for this ‘momentous’ occasion. More than anything, he would rather be home counting his collection in peace, but he could not resist sweeping his eyes across the pyramid; an ancient structure he had no idea how his lesser rival got his hands on.

“Grandmaster!” The Collector greeted without trying to hide the strained politeness in his tone. “Of course you’re the first to arrive.”

The Grandmaster inclined his head in just the slightest to give some sort of attention to the host. “I assume you are the Menkhakhu’s master?”

The Collector followed the Grandmaster’s gaze to his cup of wine. “Came from my ship. And is that what this is called?”

Without so much as a twitch on his grim face, the Grandmaster continued to hover to the edge of the pyramid to read its runes. “Why have you called the Elder brothers, Taneleer? I have things to do.”

“For a bunch of supreme beings with nothing to do, we all have things to do, apparently.”

“Sounds about right.”

Collector swirled the wine in his glass with a smirk, “Would you like to know what I’ve recently procured in my collection?”

“Would I?” Grandmaster feigned interest. “I already know what you have. Nothing intrigues me except this,” he gestures to the expanse of the Menkhakhu. “Do you know how it operates?”

“Why? Looking for something?”

Grandmaster scowled, not wishing to reveal something Collector may not know about. He’d be damned if he tipped him off. Instead of revealing any more than he should, he quietly continued his observation of the runes.

Not one moment later, eight figures appeared out of the black blanket of space. The first and fastest to set foot on the Menkhakhu was Runner. A beautiful male with a body like a Greek statue only made entirely of gold. The parts of him not touched by the color are his pearly white teeth.

“This better be worth my time, Collector,” he said, clearly annoyed. “Taking us so far out in probably the most boring pockets of the universe.” He grimaced at the pyramid’s base and observed the runes. “This seems familiar.”

Followed soon after was Champion riding his chrome motorcycle (or a rocket sled as he likes to call it). Hanging on its front is a skull of some enormous creature he may have defeated and carries it with him as a trophy. His wild red hair sits on top of pale blue skin that bulges with muscle. His white eyes blinked at the incoming Elders and his three brothers nearest him.

“There is no battle!” Champion spat with rage. “What is this place? Why have you brought us here?”

“I said there is _going_ to be a battle, not there _is_ one. But, there will be one. Soon. Just not right now.”

Champion raised his lips into a snarl, not happy to be played the fool.

The rest arrived at the same time. Father Time carries a sagely appearance or a hermit with cash to spend. Explorer copies his fashion from Earth’s conquistador’s, only he has blue skin. Trader is a mousy looking male with jagged teeth and a steep forehead, and has purple skin with red hair. Obliterator is another large male with bulking metal armor and jet black hair. Astronomer is an older male with a full beard and a visor on his right eye. Judicator is a male of small stature with yellow skin and pink styled hair like something from Earth’s age in the 80’s. The last to touchdown was Possessor with his lion headed staff, long white hair and a blindfold.

Collector searched the group. “Where’s Gardener?”

“Probably stopped to smell some roses,” Possessor sighed.

Father Time scrunched his nose with distaste. “There’s always the late one.”

“How did you find this place? This is beyond the boundaries of travelled space,” Explorer explained with only slight interest.

Just when he asked, a male with a full beard and head of white hair teleported beside him. Gardener clung to his red staff and scratched the red jewel in the center of his forehead with mild guilt. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Great.” Collector began. “Everyone’s here. There will be one more arriving shortly to the Elders of the Universe party, but let’s get started.”

Astronomer scoffed, “Some party. You’re the only one with alcohol.”

“It’s cranberry juice. I like to drink with class.”

Obliterator rolled his eyes. “This was not what we had in mind, brother. You made empty promises. Tell us your true purpose for bringing us all here.”

“By all means,” Grandmaster’s feet touched the base and completed the circle, “get on with it.”

“Straight to it. I’m sure all of you noticed our extra guest in the universe.”

 “Yes,” Judicator piped, “In my usual calculations of universe’s general mass and density which fluctuates on the universe’s population, there were two great spikes; not the usual minor ones when a life is born.”

“Two?” Possession stroked the mane of his lion. “I’m sure there was only one.”

“Does it matter?” Trader asked. “It could have been the mortals toying with dimensions again. Their favorite past time.”

“That’s just the thing,” the humor in Collector’s eyes dimmed. “I received a precognition and it’s nothing I’ve ever seen. The first who entered was not of this universe nor of any of the Multiverses.”

“Then it is a new universe the mortals dredged up,” Champion assumed the quickest resolve.

Collector shook his head. “No. I do not recognize this being, but it is very old. Older than us.”

Gardener stomped his staff on the ground. “That’s impossible. Was it sentient?”

“Yes,” said Collector.

“What about it, then?” Runner, neither impressed nor stunned, eyed Collector.

“In my vision I saw it destroy this universe and all other universes connected to this one. It left no one alive. Not even Galactus.”

A heavy silence filled the base; denser than space and slower than time.

Father Time was the first to revive the conversation. “Are you sure about this?”

“There was nothing read in the stars,” Astronomer murmured.

“Has he ever been wrong before?” Grandmaster defended. He and Collector shared their first and last mutual glance for a few centuries. “And as for your stars,” he exasperated, “if this being is not from any of our connected universes then there’s nothing to read.”

“Excellent. A battle to the death,” Obliterator grinned.

Champion uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips. “Yes. Sounds like a worthy opponent. I have been bored.”

“What are we to do then? Gather the mortals? The other gods? Us fight against it?” Judicator wrung his hands together. “If this is at a large scale you’re making it out to be, then there is a narrow chance for survival. A plan must be formulated.”

“Nonsense! We are the Elders of the Universe. Nothing can stand in our way!” Champion roared.

“I’ve been told you’ve been bested by mortals before,” Trader raised a red eyebrow at him.

“What?! Lies! Who told you that?”

“You’ve been bested?” Obliterator laughed hard at the very prospect of it. “This is the best information I have been given in a very long time. Tell me, brother. Who was it?”

Champion snarled at the recollection of it, “Strange fools who do not carry a warrior’s honor. They fight with trickery and words.”

“Things you lack,” Explorer adjusted his helmet.

“Come again?” Champion growled.

Gardener inspected the looped end of his staff with great interest. “They were the Deadpool Corps.”

His words fell into silence. Then everyone broke into a laugh. Even Runner cracked a smirk.

“Silence!” Champion bellowed. But no matter how many times he repeated the word, the laughter would break out harder than before. “I’ll battle the one who spread this lie! Come and face me!” His shouts drowned with the ancients’ mirth. “I know it was you, Collector!”

“Of course it was me,” he laughed. “I’m surprised you caught on. Good for you!”

“Why you-“

“Alright, settle down,” Grandmaster tucked away his smile and spoke without raising his voice. Immediately, the pyramid settled to stray chuckles then silence. “I believe Collector has a solution to our little problem. Correct?”

Collector took another sip of his wine when all the Elder’s attention fell on him. He smacked his lips. “Mm. Sort of. It concerns our second visitor. She is nearly as powerful as the first being.”

“I stand by what Possessor said,” Trader stepped forward, his blue robes swept after him. “I sense no other being.”

Everyone around agreed to this.

“Then it could be either my predictions are wrong—which is impossible. Or Judicator’s calculations are wrong, which is also impossible. There is another being here with us, we simply cannot sense her.”

Father Time twisted his mustache like there was a bad stench in the air. “We’ve always been aware of what occurs in the universe. To know there is someone greater to mask their existence from us is unnerving.”

“What do they look like?” Explorer smoothed his pencil mustache.

“The female,” Collector responded smoothly, “is a humanoid, like us. The other being,” he trailed off, finding the thin red liquid splash against the spotless glass of keener interest. His brows furrowed, piecing together the images of this being destroying universes with a singular action. He couldn’t quite define what it was it did or how. Was it with words? A hand? An astral projection? He could only recount what he felt.

Collector isn’t a man who fears easily. He never takes anything to heart and handles most situations with a blasé wave. The mortals of the universe are interesting enough to keep him busy, but he can’t help be bored most of the time; being immortal isn’t all cracked up as the bad guys expect it to be. They are, after all, rather dull, violent, and angry little creatures. Sure, there are those “super” ones who can pass as some challenge to his existence, but their high morals and honor gets old real fast. Thanos tends to be topics of concern, but never to the point for him to fear death. This being who came to him in dreams, nightmares, meditations, and day dreams, for the first time in centuries struck fear into his body. He used to think it was the fear of the unknown, but it was much more. Somehow, this thing was far older than the Elders. Older than the universe. It was beyond his understanding. And this female was the key to unlock this lost knowledge.

He waved the glass beneath his nose to calm his jumping nerves, filling his lungs with the scent of acid, fruit, and wood. Above the rim of his glass he murmured to his anxious brothers. “It is darkness. It is the end of ends. It does not hate. It does not hunger. It does not seek vengeance. It just is.”

The silence sucked away their breaths. Some paled. Champion and Obliterator struggled with a foreign concept, or a concept they had long forgotten from their mortal lives. Runner’s bronze complexion tinted ever so softly of green. Grandmaster could (he really could if he wanted to) burn a hole through the Menkhakhu with his stare.

Collector tore a slit in the ball of suffocation for some breathing, “This female is neither mutant nor inhuman. She’s beyond anything I know of. I think she’s here for that being.”

“But you said you saw our death,” Astronomer interjected. “Does she fail or succeed?”

“I can see the being’s probability, not hers,” was Collector’s reply.

Everyone shifted out of their stagnant stances in a unanimous clarification of understanding; the universes had two paths: one of probable victory and one of certain failure. How the Elder’s proceed could mean either.

“And I assume we don’t know where either of these beings are?” Grandmaster pressed a finger to his lips as he processed the overload of emotion and information.

“Yes. But our guest can help with the female,” Collector added with a smirk.

Each of the Elders’ brows raised to the center of their foreheads. 

A silver streak painted across the black canvas of space, approached the Menkhakhu. “And right on time.”

The Silver Surfer. Galactus’ first herald. Earth’s savior. And now a protector of the universe. His silver plating is the source of his powers known as the Power Cosmic, and was given to him by his former master, Galactus. He surfs the stars to seek adventure and knowledge of the great and wide universe, and helping those in need.

He landed with his silver surfboard, an object connected to his being and a personality of its own.

“Elders.” His white eyes scanned their faces. Although considered the most powerful being in the universe, his abilities are outmatched against the one of the original holders of the Power Cosmic.

“The Silver Surfer?” Runner half mused.

Grandmaster stroked his chin in thought. “We never see eye to eye, Taneleer, but this is one thing I can agree with you on.”

“That’s nice,” Collector sipped his wine. “Norrin Radd, we, the Elders of the Universe, have a task for you.”

“I am no longer entitled to serve under any master,” Silver Surfer replied curtly. “Especially not with beings who have the power to help those in need and choose not to.”

“If you listen to what we need to say, you will find this is indeed a noble cause.”

Silver Surfer crossed his arms, leaving his surfboard to hover patiently beside him. “Dawn and I have come a long way so you can meet with me. Might as well make the journey worth it.”

Possessor twirled his staff between his fingers when he gave an intrigued remark mixed with a lopsided smile. “Isn’t that the name of your human?”

Silver Surfer turned sharply at him. “Do not address her as if she were a pet.”

Collector raised his free hand. “Come, brother. Be polite.”

Although Possessor did not release his crooked smile, he held his tongue.

“We need you to find someone for us,” Collector returned to the task at hand.

“What is her importance?” Silver Surfer was not sounding convinced or enthralled by being a servant once more.

“She could potentially save the universe or -verses. However you want to look at it.”

This spurred worry within the surfer. “The universe is in danger?” He stopped. “Please don’t tell me I’m searching for an Earthling.”

“No. She is a humanoid. Brown skin. Dark brown hair. Hazel eyes. I believe she resembles a culture from Earth: Indian.”

Before the surfer gave his affirmation for the mission, he asked firmly, almost accusingly, “Is this something the Elders of the Universe can perform themselves, but would rather have someone get their hands dirty for them?’

“This is something we definitely can’t accomplish. But she can. Probably.”

Silver Surfer raised a nonexistent eyebrow. “Probably?”

“It’s either her or we all die. Your choice.”

“And this is all based on your precognition?”

“Yep.”

Surfer narrowed his eyes, “You are not going to disclose any more information to me? Who is this threat? Where it came from? When this is happening?”

Collector looked up, feigning consideration. “No. All you need to do is find the woman and report back to one of us. Oh! And our Power Cosmic can’t sense her.”

“Great galaxies,” Silver Surfer sputtered. “How in the seven universes am I going to find her?”

“With your board,” Collector deadpanned.

The surfer ignored his comment to expand his cosmic senses; sensing every life thriving across the stars. “There’s something very powerful.”

“Yes, that’s the killer being,” Collector spoke over him and waved away the issue. “There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

Silver Surfer gave Collector a cold stare. “You’re all selfish cowards. Waiting for someone to rid of your problems instead of attempting to do it yourselves. You have the means to if you all work together.”

Champion lunged forward, his wide body flexed in preparation to strangle. “How dare you, a lesser being, defy us? Let us battle to see who is the true coward.”

“Norrin. Norrin,” Collector put a hand on a silver shoulder. The surfer snarled from the touch, but did not move the gloved hand. “We are the universe’s last line of defense. If we die first, then all hope is gone.”

Something ticked behind the cosmic entity’s white eyes; thoughts turning faster than light-speed. He would have to bite his pride, stifle the Elder’s repugnance, and push back his loathing for servitude. If it meant saving universes, saving Dawn, then he would make a temporary truce. But they don’t need to know that last bit.

Silver Surfer shrugged off the hand and turned away. “I’ll find your woman. But in the coming battle I expect to see you all there. This is your universe as much as it is ours. To me, Board.”

And with that he surfed away, a silver streak in the distance until he was lost amongst the stars.

Collector downed the last drops of his wine and turned to his brother. “Well, I think that wraps this meeting up. Bye!”

A gold hand took his empty glass the same time his ship casted a blue light over him for his ascension.

Grandmaster grumbled a few colorful words at the Menkhakhu’s animation. Some that did not skip Collector’s ears.

“Don’t worry your little head off, En Dwi. You’re never going to find the Menkhakhu again, because I know you hate losing.”

“Menkhakhu,” Runner mused. “I’m impressed, Collector.”

“That’s a first.”

Collector disappeared within his ship and took off. The same moment so did the Elders, leaving the pyramid barren and lifeless once more. As per his master’s request, it disappeared; moving across another secluded section of the universe to hide away from Grandmaster’s preying eyes.

 

**Couple of Minutes Later**

Stalking into the ass end of nowhere, an orange and blue ship with sweptback wings lingered in the area where the Menkhakhu was stationed at.

Inside the cockpit, every crew member stared out into the empty void with furrowed brows and gaping mouths. They turned their heads to a raccoon, who isn’t a raccoon.

Rocket fiddled with an orange pad suspended on an arm, which displayed maps of solar systems.

“This isn’t as bad as it looks,” he played off.

The only Earthling aboard, Star-Lord a.k.a. Peter Quill, blinked. “Right. Well. Let me know when you finish bullshitting yourself and get to the part where you ask yourself why we’ve ended up thousands of lightyears away from civilization!”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket pushed Groot’s compassionate hand away. “Shut up, Groot.”

The crew’s only female and the most feared in the universe, Gamora, stared out through the glass with a deep scowl. “If it was Peter, I would accept it. But, I expected better from you.”

“I would never take us all the way out here! Would I?” Peter turned to their battle loving and honored bound member. Drax stood beside him with his arms crossed over his massive green chest.

He spoke without hesitation and from the heart. “You would get us lost.”

Peter threw his arms up in the air. “It doesn’t matter anymore because Rocket was the one who did it.”

Rocket bared his teeth as he stared at the charts, searching for something he could have missed. “Something was definitely here. And it was big. And old.”

Gamora tapped the hilt of her sword with impatience. “It’s either this employer has us chasing fantasies or Rocket has faulty technology.”

“My technology ain’t ever faulty!”

“Our situation proves otherwise,” Drax commented.

A heavy sigh escaped Peter. He put his hands on the controls. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Gamora turned to him. “And go where? Follow Rocket’s navigation again?”

“Listen here!” Rocket cut in, his agitation peaked. “There was definitely something here. It could have moved while we jumped space.”

“I am Groot,” Groot’s cavernous voice filled the cockpit.

Rocket dragged a hand over his face. “You’re not helping, buddy.”

“Yes,” Peter’s grin was wide and unnatural, and without humor. “Third time’s the charm.”

Drax frowned at Peter. “This has only been our second attempt. And what would be charming about the third?”

“Nothing,” Gamora stated simply.

“Alright! Fine! It’s my fault! Happy now? If yes, let’s get the flark on out of here. If no, I don’t give a flark, we’re still going.”

“Maybe I should pick the next destination,” Peter propped his chin on his fist and blinked several times.

Drax and Gamora wrestled with the thought. It probably wouldn’t make things any better.

“No,” Rocket defensively brought his navigation module closer to his body. “I made it. I know how to use it. And I can fix it.”

Peter winced at the words that pained him deep in the soul. He watched Rocket struggle with his instrument for several seconds until it was too hard to bear. “Let me just…,” a slow hand reached for the navigation module, but Rocket caught sight of it. He jumped on his and bared his fangs.

“Hey!”

“Maybe you just need a critique, you know? Like get a second pair of eyes to maybe catch something you may have missed. Just a thought.”

“I’m the only one here who can disassemble and put back together this ship with my eyes closed. The only critic I need is me.”

It took several more seconds for Peter to let something sink in. “What is the deal? We can’t just help?”

Rocket’s ear twitched. Still fuming over the debate his red eyes searched Peter’s blue ones, mulling over a response. But he never had the chance to give one. Flying past the cockpit’s window at incredible speed was a blurred streak of black and brown. But that wasn’t what irked the Guardians of the Galaxy. It was the fact the blurred streak was laughing its head off; assuming it had one.

All quarrels dissipated when the crew turned to each other with the same flabbergasted expression.

Rocket was the first to speak. “What the hell was that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See something you don't like? Character a little too OOC? What's happening, bitch is crazy? PM me or whatever.


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